Book of Drabbles
by Eldhoron
Summary: A collection of random, sometimes themed, drabbles. Featuring numerous characters from the Silmarillion to the Book of Lost Tales. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Drabble 1

**A/N: An AU Elrond that I wanted drabble on.**

"When did you become so callous, Elrond?"

"When my family left me. When three gleaming gems ripped my step-fathers away. When my twin brother was murdered by the endless, churning gears of time. That's when I became so callous. I'm sorry you don't like it."


	2. Drabble 2

**A/N Two friends getting to know each other.**

He chuckled deeply, his bright teeth flashing. "Mellon, if I could have taken down that monster, I would have."

"Why didn't you?" The raven-haired scholar peeked inquisitively over the rim of his tumbler.

The golden warrior smirked, hiding the shade of guilt and anger passing over his crystal blue irises. "I did. He and I, we took the long way down to death."


	3. Drabble 3

Father and son sat on the old dock looking out over the water. "Do you ever wonder how it would be if he hadn't left?"

The dark haired ellon snorted. A nostalgic smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Silver eyes never left the horizon. "Yes."

Silence prevailed for a few precious breaths before Elrond finally tore his gaze from the sailing clouds. His last remaining child turned as well to meet his father's eyes. Elrond gave another soft smile, which was returned through glassy eyes. "One day, far away, you'll see him again."


	4. Drabble 4

**On the shores of the Blessed Realm**

A light skinned ellon with flaming red hair took in a deep breath of salty sea air. The exhilarating sensation of a fresh breeze filling his lungs drew a smile across his war-torn features. One word could do little to summarise the emotions welling up inside of him, frothing and jumping high like the waves of the sea that forever sighed behind him, but still he spoke it for it was the one syllable he had been yearning to utter for ages.

" _Home_ ," he breathed.


	5. Drabble 5

His glass was refilled once more. The Prancing Pony was brimming with patrons full of laughter and high spirits. The swishing amber liquid in his tumbler was slowly numbing him to the sounds of life around him. The scruffy character was presently in a state of pleasant non-existence. He pushed himself lazily from the bar and shuffled through the motley sea of colours and smells. The floorboards swam and the trip was treacherous, but finally he toppled onto a soft bed in his own room. Now, he could drift into fitful dreams, alone again.


	6. Drabble 6

**Teaser for something years in the works.**

* * *

A husky voice whispered over the pillow. Copper locks cascaded to mingle with dark ebony. "Can I say something?"

"Of course," said the other.

"I love you."

The other smiled, unawares that tonight was the beginning of an epic.


	7. Drabble 7

**Maybe this doesn't happen with elves? Maybe I am humanising them? Whatever the case, it came out and I posted it.**

"Ada! Ada! Look at me!" The tiny voice spoke cheerfully from the green sward. Small fingers dug into the ground as the little elfling stood on his hands. His dark, raven hair tumbled down, nearly brushing the earth with its strands.

But his bright red face fell when the beckoned ellon kept walking with that characteristic, stoic look on his face.

"Ada?"

Father finally turned, digging his hands deeper into his pockets as he looked on his son. Seeing himself in that little face, seeing his mistake, it hurt. So he turned back around and didn't say anything.


	8. Drabble 8

As his silver eyes watched that ghostly grey ship drift away, his heart broke. Not for the first time, did his life shatter in the ebbing twilight hours. His face remained sombre, but the flickering remains of his aching fëa nearly fluttered out. He bit his cheek and hid the pain. He was a master at that after so long. A sheet of flaking ice covered over his soul, protecting him again. It was his only defence against the overwhelming hurt he felt inside. His heart was a tumbling hurricane. His life was a façade covering the carnage.


	9. Drabble 9

Over land and sea, over the high crags his vision sailed as if borne on a wind. A white tower stood against the darkening sky. A twisted cloud, a low rumble, rose from the east to confront the singing bells of that stark citadel. The legacy of one, pitted against the legacy of another. The war was begun...

So saw the Lord of Wind.


	10. Drabble 10

The drums of death beat before him, as he rode. Nahar snorted in the darkness, which was only lit with the jumping sparks that came with every hoofbeat. One saw only a silver dash, as if lighting was riding the winds over the landscape. A deep howling resounded far behind the beast and rider. A hunt was come.

He was the Hunter.


	11. Drabble 11

**A/N: Exactly 100 words for this one. I have been wanting to post it for a while but have only finished writing it today. This is set in an alternate story-line as a teaser. Celegarn is a new character I am developing. He was initially developed from an old RP I miss dearly, which was run by a old mate (DorkDog). I have decided to continue his story and development in this other story-line which is under construction... like all my other crap. :P Hopefully this overly long A/N hasn't bored you. Now you can read the drabble.**

* * *

 _Seregwaen._ "It is more than a name. It is more than a curse. Its meaning is far beyond simply that of 'bloodstained'. It is a symbol, Elros. A rallying cry to everyone who hears it; who remember it being cried out in the streets that day when it was first uttered –"

The dark haired ellon lifted a scarred hand to halt the other's words. "I told you... I am not a hero." His voice shook.

Celegarn leaned forward, steadily meeting Elros' sea-green eyes with his own emerald green globes. "You gave them hope. Only a hero can spark hope."


	12. Drabble 12

"How could you do this." His raspy whisper echoed over the blue shards of ice and into the high, dazzling dome. The cold fingers of the roaring wind continually raked his face and bare hands. His voice returned to his aching ears unanswered – as it always did. Not for the first time, Fingolfin rued the day he had stepped into this hell. Once again, he lamented the deeds of his half-brother.


	13. Drabble 13

**A/N: This is Maedhros hanging in Angband.**

* * *

"Fingon?!" His broken voice cried out fey over the desolate, grey stones. His mind had been black with despair, but he felt a foreign touch of warmth, this time.

 _No_. His heart glazed over once again. Surely, this was another twisted hoax by the Enemy. He opened his eyes. The pain crested, twining his muscles excruciatingly, as the relatively harsh light bathed his sore, mutilated, body and struck his eyes. He saw nothing. The darkness overwhelmed him again.


	14. Drabble 14

**A/N: This is definitely Fingon. Just more Silm. stuff bc I cant enough of it. It is amazing how a book formed in the mind of a man so long ago as WWI would still be inspiring me. Whenever I write stuff like this it brings me back to the war tales I have heard and read and studied, and it is just amazing.**

* * *

"For the Silmarils!" He thrust forth his fist into the smoky sky before he let his feet carry him thither to battle. The familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins like ice water in a sudden rush. The sound of thousands behind him instantly being driven into decisive movement primed his body for the intended slaying. These were the moments that would go down in history, that would live on in song.


	15. Drabble 15

"You won't save everyone."

His father's blunt words cut deeply even if they were not meant to. Elrond swallowed hard but nodded and replied. "I know," he said cautiously.

Maedhros dipped his head satisfyingly then turned his sea-coloured eyes back towards the furnace. "Good. I give you my blessing. Go, train." _Heal the hurts we have caused,_ the son of Fëanor added mutely as he took up his hammer once again.


	16. Drabble 16

Elros stood alone beside a grey cairn. Behind him, two matching headstones kept watch. All around his dark figure, the forest was still. Past memories played through his mind. The heavy silence of winter muted all noise. It was all right. Elros was growing used to the quiet void. It mirrored the one in his heart.


	17. Drabble 17

How quickly life could be extinguished. He thought that before the dwarvish war goat jumped over his limp body. His vision was blurred, filled only with the chaos of war. His insides felt like they had been spilt with a horrible devouring pain within his deepest parts. As his spirit peeled from flesh and gold armour hit the hard, dusty ground, his thoughts echoed into the dark like one final, visceral scream. _How quickly death came._


	18. Drabble 18

**This is an OOC Elros. AU to my other fics... I was happy and Elros manifested it. :p**

Life seemed so bright. The chattering, green leaves danced in the sun to the same music playing his head. He wanted to rip his boots off and enjoy the cool summer mud under his toes before the autumn finally came. His grin must have been contagious because his shirtless companion reflected the cheesy smile. "What did you get into?" Galion asked, suppressing a chuckle.

Elros sat on the warm stone jutting above the rushing river. He crossed his legs and leaned back. "I think I found a lover," he said with closed eyes and white teeth.


	19. Drabble 19

**A/N: I am learning to write these two from my current favourite game: Shadow of War. I love their dynamic and hopefully this is the first of many fics with them.**

* * *

"Distance is so cruel," he said morosely one starry night. Man and wraith sat on the shores of Núrnen, the last verdant land in all of Mordor. He was alone and, not for the first time, he wondered why he even tried.

The raspy voice beside him began indifferently, "It is not so" –

The stoic ghost was interrupted by a sudden flame of Talion's anger. Overwhelmed by the loneliness again, the apathy of the hollow shell he was chained to, he cut through the quiet darkness with sharp reply. "You. Just… shut up."


	20. Drabble 20

"A sharp tipped, onyx talon ghosted down his cheek. The calloused thumb rested on his grizzled, blood-spattered chin. The only sensation he had felt since landing in this hell coursed through his tremoring body: _ice_. His burning gaze barely recognised the shadowed form leaning over him as his tormentor.

"When you look back you will see the truth. You were a pawn. Your life was never your own." Gorthaur's fangs flashed, white. "When your use is spent, your sight will finally be clear."


	21. Drabble 21

Elros sat on a gem studded shore. The gentle tide lapped at the soles of his filthy leather boots. His heavy sea-coloured eyes scanned, unseeing, the dark, eastern horizon. His home lay long across the waters, far away: where his soul yearned to be.


End file.
